


I swear that I will wake up next to you

by dantetrieswriting



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: (several times), (there's like a lot of sex tbh), Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, M/M, Oops?, Post-Break Up, Some Humor, but i'll do my research, i know nothing about the cities i will be mentioning, lowkey hate sex, travel fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-30 17:25:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15101501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dantetrieswriting/pseuds/dantetrieswriting
Summary: They were on-and-off for three years. On for the last one of those three. And then they were off. For good. Now two years have passed and Isak is 20 and in need of something exciting. An ad ropes him into booking a seat for a month long bus trip to Greece. It's new. It's interesting. It's cheap. Could it get any better? Yes. Yes it could. The ad didn't include the slight 6 foot blonde inconvenience going by the name of Even Bech Næsheim. And the fact that the inconvenience would be no more than five centimeters away from him at all times. Thirty days and 6 feet of sex on legs. Buckle up! You're in for one hell of a ride.





	1. Thessaloniki

**Author's Note:**

> welcome back to an episode of Dante can't focus on any of the works he's writing so he starts another one !!
> 
> (i'm doing a ton of research on every place and food and everything as i'm writing bc i want to actually make this a decent fic soo ?? if u live in Greece and there's something i got wrong then feel free to correct me and help me out)

"Oh, sorry, were you saying something? My ears tend to filter out bullshit," Isak spits. He wants the words to sting, but Even laughs.  _Asshole._

"Still feisty. I like it," Even says with a proud grin and Isak really wants to punch him. He doesn't. He flips him off instead. Then he walks off with his suitcase and plugs in his headphones after plopping down on a remarkably cold and uncomfortable bench. He's in an airport in Vilnius, thirty minutes left until the gathering on the travel bus. He's in an airport in fucking Lithuania of all places and of course Even has to be there. They've managed two years without meeting. Two years without a single word or a glance. Two years and Even has apparently started hitting the gym. Two years and his eyes still hold the daring glint and now something more. Two years and he's still an asshole. Two years and Isak would still tear all his clothes off the moment Even asked. Two years and,  _fuck,_ Isak is still not over him.

"Okay, I will invite everyone in by name and you will receive every pass you will need over the next month, so make sure you put them all in a safe place. You all have assigned seats on this bus that cannot be changed throughout the trip for safety reasons. It'll be a fun way to get a new friend! I'll give you the details of the upcoming trip once everyone is on the bus, but you will receive a pamphlet of everything. Now, let's begin!"

The woman seemed just a tad overenthusiastic for Isak's preference, but he could just put his headphones on in the bus and read whatever pamphlet she promised. When Isak's name is called, he gives his suitcase to the driver and throws his necessity bag over his shoulder. The blonde woman supplies Isak with a handful of papers and tickets and assigns him to seat 7A. It turns out to be the window seat and Isak sighs in pure bliss. At least that gives him the option of leaning on the window to sleep instead of accidentally drooling on a stranger's shoulder. He tucks his bag in front of his feet and shrugs off his jacket. People are coming in one by one, taking their seats, some still alone, some shaking hands with their new found travel buddies. Isak's heart is speeding up every time a new set of feet stomps in. In an anxious frenzy he drops his phone on the ground. Isak's back was not made for a cramped space like this. He tries to reach as far as he can under his seat, but the side of his face is already pushed firmly against the back of the seat in front of him and his shoulder is close to being dislocated, yet his phone stays out of reach. He knows he looks ridiculous and he's praying that no one will pay attention to him in this moment. And then a deep voice speaks up right next to him.

"Need any help there?" he says and Isak hits his head on a plastic cup holder as he shoots up at full velocity. The owner of the voice stays unbothered as he reaches his long  ~~way too toned~~ arm towards the floor and hands Isak his phone. 

"You?" is the only word that Isak has the brain capacity to utter and Even chuckles bitterly.

"Trust me, i'm not thrilled either. But we're both here for a good time so let's try and make the best of this," he speaks, and Isak squints at him.  _'Make the best of this'. That's absurd._

When everyone is seated and Even's body heat is radiating onto Isak and making his skin and insides burn in the best and worst ways, the blonde woman speaks up again.

"Hei! So, my name is Vilde and I will be your guide and friend for the next thirty days,"

Isak tunes out after that. A part of him wants to listen, but the body sitting next to him is too distracting. Isak can hear him chewing on his bottom lip just as he'd done all those years back. Sees his fingers weaving together, covered in bumps and callouses from writing and playing guitar. _'H_ _e still does that,'_ Isak thinks. He sees one of those hands lift to push a strand of golden hair behind his ear, and Isak notices how it's longer now. Shinier. Lighter. He notices the light five o'clock shadow that makes his stomach twist. Notices the faint smirk playing on Even's lips and realizes he's been caught. He tries to tuck himself further into the corner of the faded velvet pillow that smells faintly of dust and vomit.  _Nice._ Only when the high pitched voice begins to echo in his head does he tune back in to Vilde's speaking.  _'The person you're seated with will be the person you'll share a hotel room with in every place we're staying at.'_ When Isak looks up and left with raised eyebrows and a slack jaw, he's met with a grinning Even who looks way too pleased about this.

"Well, this should be fun," he laughs. Isak groans and buries his body into the blue sweater he's wearing. Tries to hide the tint on his cheeks the best he can, but judging by the devilish look in Even's eyes, he knows. Isak has lost and they haven't even started playing.

Neither of them speak the entire way through Belarus. Driving on country roads, passing gorgeous sights. Isak is pressed flat against his seat, head turned to look out the window. That way Even can look out too. When they cross the border to Ukraine, Isak and Even share a look. When they drive through Rivne, Isak can feel Even's body move just a fraction closer. _He remembers_. Their final year anniversary. The beginning and the end. Isak feels a sob get caught in his throat and he swallows it down. Turns his body towards the window. Pretends to be asleep. He hears Even sigh behind him, and for a moment he feels the warmth of a reluctant touch on his spine. Romania is full of tension. The memories sparked up before the border were enough to turn their breaths shaky. Even's fidgeting is heard. He taps a rhythm on his thigh but it's inconsistent. The tempo is uneven and the volume changes every once in a while. There are pauses and finger clicks. Isak feels the nerves radiating in the air like the smell of upcoming rain. The electricity in the sky before a storm. It's deep and swallows Isak whole. He barely breathes until they cross the border again. Even sleeps through Bulgaria. Isak cant. He tried for a while but gave up. At least he can see the country. It's dark, but it's beautiful. Villages and towns are filled with lights and he can see them twinkle from country roads. When they make it to Greece, a few people cheer. There's still some time until they reach Thessaloniki. Some time until Isak has to face reality and accept that he'll be spending the next month with Even. Starting with two nights at a place called Electra Palace, which sounds way too fancy already. Isak is right. They reach the hotel and it is too nice. It looks like something straight out of one of those pretentious movies Even likes to watch. Looks way too expensive for Isak to even breathe in. There's marble everywhere. Chandeliers and fancy carpets. It's a palace.  _Lives up to its name._ But then there's their room. The interior is green. Isak's not sure how to feel about that. When Even walks in, he snorts. He knows how much Isak hates green. He's probably loving the entire situation. Isak scoffs and plops down on one of the twin beds. They're too close together and too green. The whole room is too small. There's no space to avoid Even. To avoid their past. Their memories. Isak wants to hide from all of it. They have two days and two nights. Isak grabs his wallet, phone and key card and he's off. Day one.

Isak strolls through the streets of Thessaloniki, wondering in parks and souvenir shops. He doesn't buy anything, just looks around. It's past 4 already, so he grabs a bite from the local supermarket. A salad in a plastic container that includes a weak excuse for a fork. Isak eats it on a bench near the beach. He sits cross-legged on the metal, admiring the gorgeous sight before him. The city is beautiful. Worth the past 30 silent hours. He walks around some more after that, explores the city, gets lost a few times but always finds his way back. It's late when he gets back to the hotel, and Even is already there, sitting on his bed, skimming through a magazine. The air is thick with tension as Isak falls onto his bed, grabs his phone and starts scrolling through Instagram. Even snorts and Isak glances at him. 

"You really should read a book sometime," he says and goes back to his magazine. Isak scoffs and sits up enough so he's leaning on his elbows.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You're so uncultured," he laughs and it makes Isak's blood boil. Why is Even suddenly so eager to pick a fight? They lasted a whole 30 hours on the bus without a single word and now suddenly he's all pissy.

" _I'm_ uncultured?" Isak asks disbelievingly, though he really has no arguments to back him up. Even knows that and he snorts, shaking his head.

"Yes. Or do you have anything to say against that? Did I say something wrong?"

Isak fists his hands in the sheets and exhales loudly, "Fuck you," he spits, ad it's full of venom. Even doesn't seem at all affected as he mumbles, "You wish,". 

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Don't act like i'm wrong. We both know it," he says, and Isak hates that he's right. He knows he's too weak for what he's about to do, but he stands up and walks to the front of Even's bed.

"Yeah? Well prove it," he challenges, and Even's eyebrows shoot up. There's a smirk lingering on his lips as he gets up, walks closer to Isak until they're nearly touching. Isak gulps visibly which only deepens Even's smirk. He runs his fingers along Isak's jaw and his neck and down his torso, still able to pin-point every spot that makes Isak melt. He walks closer, fingers clutching the front of Isak's shirt and Isak can't breathe, can't move. He knows that if Even takes just one more step, he won't be able to control himself. The sight of Even chewing on his bottom lip, eyes dark and vicious, makes Isak half hard already and he's positive that Even knows. He's positive because Even is pressing his thigh between Isak's legs and Isak gasps as his eyes fall shut. Even chuckles, voice dropping low and rubs against the growing bulge in Isak's pants. Isak moans quietly and tangles his fingers in Even's t-shirt. He feels himself getting pushed backwards until Even slams him against the door and attaches his mouth to Isak's neck. Isak whines and throws his head back, reveling in the sweet pleasure Even's teeth bring. His voice is so low and quiet that Isak barely hears him.

"This okay?" he says, hand travelling to the front of Isak's jeans, cupping him through the material, squeezing on the pull up. Isak groans loud and gives him a weak "Uh huh, yeah," before Even is back to biting and sucking purple marks onto every exposed inch of skin of Isak's pale chest, fingers fumbling with his zipper. Isak swats his hand off and does it himself, does the same for Even, stroking him through the thin material of his boxers, knocking the air out of his lungs. Even responds by shoving his hands in the back of Isak's jeans, leaving a burning trail in his wake. Isak feels his strong hands kneading his ass, pulling their hips flush together and he drops his head to the crook of Even's neck when the friction makes his knees weak. He faintly registers how his back hits the soft mattress, lets out a breathy gasp. Then Even is gone for a few moments, rustling through the bathroom, emerging with two small packets in his hand. It's too dark to see, but Isak knows what he's holding. When the soft yellow glow from the bathroom light is gone, it's just them. Everything is quiet as Even pulls off his jeans and crawls between Isak's legs, smashing their lips together. He still tastes the same as two years ago. Still tastes faintly of the coffee he has too much of. Black, no cream, no sugar. Still tastes a little bit like chocolate and sweet nothings. The taste of cigarettes has faded. Isak smiles just a little at that. The smile turns into a moan as Even's hands travel down his sides to pull them closer together, bodies sliding against each other. The hands start pulling at Isak's pants and Isak lifts his hips to get them off. They fly in the general direction of the floor and their shirts follow suit. Isak is naked, writhing under Even's heat, his weight. Even is still wearing his boxers, almost like he's holding the power like that. Has the upper hand in the situation. Isak doesn't dwell on that, doesn't have time, because Even is pushing his leg up, opening him up with long fingers, gentle but persistent. Isak's head is thrown back and he's letting out low whines because no matter how much he doesn't want to admit it, no one can do it better than Even. No one knows exactly how to hit all the right spots, knows all his weaknesses and vulnerabilities. No one knows how to leave Isak gasping for oxygen with just a curl of a finger. And no one feels like Even. When he pushes in, Isak's body makes room for him, welcoming him, trying to get all of him. Even goes in slow and it's torture. He drags out the pull back as his lips meet Isak's collarbone. The first push back in is strong. Somehow soft yet steady. Isak groans and it feels like years of pent up anger and frustration leaving his body in one exhale. Even's breaths are hot under his ear and his voice drags chills down Isak's spine. 

 _"I bet no one fucked you this good while I was gone. No one else knows how to fuck you right,"_ he growls, and Isak can do nothing but choke down a sob of pleasure because he's right. No one does it like Even. And Even is pounding him into oblivion, eyes rolled back and throat making raspy sounds, unable to stop. At one point Even shuts him up with a sticky kiss and Isak's back arches off the bed as he shoots up his own chest, making Even groan into his mouth, hips stuttering. When Even retreats to the bathroom for a towel, Isak pretends to be asleep. Doesn't want to deal with the aftermath. Not yet. He feels the scratchy fabric on his stomach, hears it drop on the floor somewhere in the distance. Feels the mattress dip, then two hands pulling him closer, covering him with the duvet. Feels a kiss right below his jaw and bites back a gasp. Even's body heat lulls him to sleep. The hand gripping Isak's hip leaves electricity sparking through his veins all night.

The first rays of sun land on Isak's face and he opens his eyes. The events of last night stand vivid in his memory and his lower back. There are soothing breaths coming from behind him, a smooth slide of hot skin draped over his thigh. Even is still fast asleep so Isak uses his chance. He gets up as quick and quiet as he can, picking up various clothes from across the floor, shoving them in his suitcase. He picks up a clean pair of boxers, shorts and a t-shirt. Stuffs his wallet and phone into his pocket and steps cautiously towards the door. He turns around at the last moment and grabs the empty backpack from his suitcase, throws in sunscreen, swimming trunks, a towel and a pair of flip flops. He thinks he hears a soft sigh right as he's walking out. 

It's early, so Isak has the whole day to himself. The White Tower of Thessaloniki is a nice walk from the hotel. It's the only place Isak is really interested in visiting in this town. He strolls through the streets and stops at a small cafe located on a small street, hidden from the main masses of people. He orders a coffee with cream and skims through the breakfast menu, finding something called  _kagianas._ It's scrambled eggs with tomatoes and seems delicious. A girl maybe a few years younger than Isak brings his breakfast to the table outside. She smiles wide and it makes Isak's day a bit brighter. He sits in the midst of people walking by and biking, laughing and speaking. He doesn't understand any of it, but it's nice. The food is great and takes note of the place, remembers its humble atmosphere and hidden location. He tips the waitress generously and makes his way towards the museum. It's better than Isak expected. The magnificent exterior is a place for a number of families and couples taking photos, children running around and gasping at the buildings size. It's truly impressive. As the weather is stunning, there are not many people in line for the museum and Isak purchases his ticket in no more than five minutes. The tower is full of history. It holds the life of people in Thessaloniki and Isak spends a good three hours exploring the place. He learns about the towers past. The peoples' past. Reads everything his inner history nerd is squealing about. When he makes it to the roof, it's spectacular. The view is breathtaking. He asks an elderly woman to take a photo of him standing by the edge of the rooftop. It's a memory he wants to frame and display on his wall. He buys a pin from the souvenir shop. It's a small tower. He puts it on his bag and smiles. After the museum, Isak grabs a bite at a local restaurant. It's a light lunch, perfect before hitting the beach. As Isak guessed-it's packed. There's people everywhere and he's certain that he won't be able to leave his things out of sight for a second. Which means he won't even be able to swim. Great. Isak hates sunbathing. He's just starting to set down his things when he spots someone and walks over with a sickly sweet smile.

"Hei, Vilde!"

The woman looks up at Isak from where she's laying on her towel and grins.

"Hei! Isak, right?" she asks, covering her eyes with her hand and squinting as Isak nods.

"I didn't really want to leave my stuff unattended so maybe I could leave them with you, if that's okay?"

"Yes, of course! I'll probably be here all day," she laughs and Isak thinks it might be a good day. He grabs his swimming trunks and heads for a changing booth. 

The water is amazing. It's clear and warm and refreshing. It cools him down, yet doesn't freeze. The sea has a fresh scent that reminds Isak of freedom. He dunks his head under the water and swims a bit further. He's found the spot where his feet still reach the ground, yet he's far from everyone else. There are children playing in the shallow water and some adults swimming in the deeper parts. Isak lets his arms float on either side of him and he breathes in the hot air. Soft waves tickle his chin and make his body rock. He's entirely swallowed in the ambiance of it all, eyes closed with a smile on his face. It takes a while before he goes back to shore. When he does, Vilde is still taking the most of the Greek sun, now on her back with arms laid out on both sides of her, a magazine laid out beside her. She jumps a little when Isak plops down next to her.

"How was the water?"

"Fantastic. I highly recommend."

Vilde laughs but shakes her head, "I'm not much of a swimming lover. I'd rather stay on the shore and get nice and tan," she says and Isak chuckles.

Isak actually decides to get some color on his body for once, so he stays with Vilde for the rest of the day. They talk about everything. Isak finds out that Vilde has a wife back in Oslo, and tells Vilde his dumb high school stories in return. They have a nice time and grab dinner together. It's a small restaurant just far enough from the sea that you can't see it, but you can hear the waves and the prices are half of the ones right next to the beach. They have tacos, but they're different from anything Isak has ever had before. They have all sorts of vegetables and some sort of cheese that ties it all together, but Isak would never have it on its own. And they're amazing. Isak orders an extra one and has it packed up. He walks back to the hotel with Vilde, pointing out the small cafe he'd had breakfast at, tells her about the amazing coffee and scrambled eggs. They promise to there together the next morning before they have to leave. Isak hugs Vilde back at the hotel when she goes to her room. It's 9 PM now, so Isak fully expects Even to be there. He's not. There's a small wave of anxiety that rolls over him, but he decides to ignore it. They're on vacation. Even is just out having fun. He leaves the extra taco on Even's bedside table with a note,  _'Sorry I ditched,'_ and takes a quick shower before crawling under the covers. He turns his back to the door and closes his eyes. A few minutes later there's a sound of the lock clicking and Isak can hear Even toeing off his shoes. He hears his footsteps echo in the bathroom, hears a faint humming under the spray of water. When Even walks to his bed, Isak can hear him picking up the paper bag and then a quiet chuckle. He dozes off into a peaceful slumber.

The next morning, Isak is dressed and ready before Even wakes up again. He checks his clock and still has five minutes before he has to meet Vilde. He stuffs every stray item of his into his suitcase and heads out the door. Breakfast with Vilde is great. Isak notices her glancing at the ring on her finger every once in a while and he smiles. She's only three years older than him and already has her life together. Isak wishes he could have that. When Vilde shows him a picture of her and her wife, Isak recognizes her. They went to high school together. Eva. She's his age. Vilde tells him they should all meet up sometime back home. To catch up. Isak likes that idea. When they get back to the hotel, Even and his bags are already gone. Isak grabs his own things and gives the room a quick once-over. There's a pill bottle in the bathroom. He sighs and grabs it. Throws it into his bag. When they get on the bus, Even is sitting in his seat, but stands so Isak can get past. Isak sits, pulls the pills out of his bag and hands them to Even.

"You forgot these," he says with a small unsure smile. Even smiles and sighs deeply.

"Thank you."

They share a moment, looking into each others' eyes and Isak feels a familiar comfort in his heart. A warmth he's been missing for a while. Vilde's voice breaks their small bubble again,

"Okay, I hope you all enjoyed your time in Thessaloniki! Next stop: Larissa."

And then they're off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out my [wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/heyitsdante) !!


	2. Larissa

The drive from Thessaloniki to Larissa takes less than two hours. They're driving near the coast, so the views are spectacular. Isak tries to make himself as small as he can because he knows Even will love the picturesque scenes. And he's right, because he can hear the quiet gasps whenever they pass a remarkably beautiful place. Can almost hear Even's smile. The hotel they're staying at this time is called Achillion Hotel. The contrast between the last hotel and this one is, well, remarkable to say the least. The room here is not green, but it's noticeably smaller. A sort of cramped space where two people will barely be able to pass each other. Perfect for exes with unresolved issues. The shower is so small Isak doubts either him or Even will fit in there. After the initial exploration, they're both sitting on their beds, silent. There are so many unsaid things and questions in the air that were left there years ago. There's a detachment in the way they look at each other and it's a painful reminder of how Isak fucked up. Maybe he could do better if he had another chance. Maybe now he could focus on Even and not push him somewhere in the background behind his parents and school and self hate. Maybe now he could tell Even everything he kept back through all the three years. To get closure, if nothing more. There were just so many times they slipped, somehow built themselves back up. But a piece went missing every time they fell, so in the end, there was nothing left to get back up. Isak thinks back to their trip to Ukraine. He can almost feel Even thinking the same. That it was a mistake. The final straw. The place where the pieces were finally gone. He suppresses a tear and throws himself across the bed to where his suitcase is set to be left unpacked for the next five nights. Which reminds him: five nights with Even in a space that barely has room to stand. Five nights after what they did in Thessaloniki. After they so carelessly fell back into old patterns, their usual on-and-off nature. But Isak isn't 16 anymore. They aren't children. Even is 22 now. Nearly as old as-married, has her entire life together-Vilde. They're adults, and should know better. Yet that night, in that awfully green room, something took over Isak. A sort of homesickness that wasn't necessarily a longing for his dull Oslo apartment, but more of a desire for closeness. A desire to be loved. Loved by someone who's close, someone who knows him inside and out. Two years of meaningless hookups had only further deepened the hole in his heart. Seeing Even again was like a punishment. Some sort of curse. Isak's thoughts drag him so deep into the abyss of his mind that he only registers Even leaving when the door falls shut. The room is silent now. For a few seconds, Isak can still hear Even's footsteps in the hallway. The distance between them is growing with every step. And not just the physical one. Every second drags them further apart again. The night they spent together only made things worse. Isak knows. They've never been much for talking, but maybe it's finally time. He knows they have to do it. Be it here or in Athens or during their final minutes together. They both deserve closure. They both need it.

Isak spends his first day wandering aimlessly. He has five days to get used to these streets, these people. Exactly enough for him to fall into a routine just so he can leave. Forget about these patterns in a matter of hours. To fall into new ones. He knows they're going to Athens next. An entire week to make memories. Yet right now he has five days to fill. He thinks he might just join in on the tour tomorrow. They're supposed to be visiting historic sights and learning all about them. Isak would much rather do it on his own, but getting a ride there and back and having someone who actually knows their facts talk about it, he thinks it might not be that bad. He gets food from a local restaurant and sits alone at a table for two on the terrace. From an outsider's perspective, it might not seem so unusual. He's a pasty Scandinavian guy, obviously a tourist. It's not that uncommon for people to travel alone. Yet he knows that there is a hotel room waiting for him with two beds. One of which will be occupied by the person who probably wants nothing to do with him. The person Isak has missed for the past two years without even really acknowledging it. Perhaps he's just craving closeness. It's a thought. Yet it's wiped out of his head as soon as it appears. His mind might have gotten detached one time too many, yet his heart never let go. He sighs into his water glass and chugs it down. The walk back to the hotel is slow. He drags it out, makes a point of setting a rhythm to the way he places one foot in front of the other. The sight of the lit up tall building comes too fast. Walking through the hallway, he feels his stomach turn. It was easier when he didn't know. Didn't remember what it was all like. Now he got a taste and he wants more. He pushes it down as he unlocks the door and steps in. The familiar sound of water hitting tiles and a faint hum fills his ears. He clutches the book of Greek history in his left hand and walks to his bed after toeing off his shoes. He sits down, scoots himself towards the headboard, and opens the book on his crossed legs. It starts from the very beginning on Greece and Isak is hooked from the first word. He flips through the pages, studying each one with intent. His ears don't register the shower turning off of the sound of the bathroom door opening. His eyes notice a slight change in lighting, but he doesn't investigate further, instead clings onto every word on the page, memorizes the picture and bites his lip in concentration. Even's voice startles him to the point he almost slams the book shut,

"I see you took my advice," he teases and Isak squints at him. There's a grin on Even's face and Isak tries to suppress his smile but fails. The sight of Even sitting there, dripping wet and glowing is too appealing not to. He laughs out a "Fuck off," and Even cracks up just a little.

"Well, i'm going to sleep. Good night," he says and Isak mutters a "Good night," in response, yet it comes out too fond for his liking. He lets it slide and after Even turns off his bedside lamp, Isak closes the book and shuts his one, too. He takes a quick shower and changes in the dark. He swears he hears a cut off gasp when he drops his towel, but he doesn't look back, slips under the covers after he's done. The night is silent.

He's woken up by Even in the morning and he groans, tries to hide his face in his pillow, wraps the duvet tighter around his body. Even's voice is just loud enough to get through to him,

"The tour starts in thirty minutes. Better get ready if you're coming," he speaks, and it's somehow dull. There was something in his voice last night that's not there anymore. The emotion is gone. Isak swears quietly and drags himself up. He has enough time to grab a breakfast from the hotel and throw a few necessary granola bars in his backpack. He nearly forgets his phone on the nightstand.

The drive there is very short. Before Isak can even make himself comfortable, they're there and Vilde is ushering them out of the bus. A woman with short brown hair is standing with a big smile and a binder in her hands. She introduces herself as Emma and begins to show them around. They walk through the same patch of land for nearly an hour as she tells them about everything that has happened there. Isak is somewhere in the front of the group so he can listen and ask questions when there's a chance. The woman takes a liking to him, so when the tour is over, they stay back to chat.

"You know, you remind me of my son. I think he's about your age and adores history," she says, "he lives back in Oslo, so I haven't seen him for a while, but you two would like each other."

Isak smiles at her. He's not very fond of new people, but a fellow history nerd sounds like someone he could tolerate.

"Perhaps you could give me a name or a number?" Isak asks and Emma grins, fishing out a small notebook from her backpack. She's the kind of person who writes down people's numbers. Isak finds it quite old school, but to each their own, he thinks. The woman certainly does not look like someone who could have a son his age, but perhaps she just has a killer skincare routine. There are faint lines in the corners of her brown eyes and her smile betrays the otherwise youthful look a bit. She gives him her son's name and number, _Julian Larzen,_ before she has to head off for another tour. They part ways and Isak can't help but hope to meet her again one day.

The rest of the group has scattered along the ruins, some taking pictures, some just exploring. Isak hears footsteps approaching him from behind and he turns around enough to notice the golden blonde head getting closer. They haven't spoken since Even woke him up, and Isak is just a little bit nervous when he walks towards him. Even smiles a small smile, a camera hanging from his neck.

"I know how much you adore places like this so I thought i'd offer to take a picture. You look good standing there," he says and Isak blushes. He hates how well Even knows him. Yet it's mildly endearing. He agrees and smiles as Even makes a point of taking a picture from every possible angle. Isak is laughing in the end, managing to get a grin on Even's face. It makes his heart jump to know he can still do that. Make Even smile. Even finally stands up properly, looks over the pictures and hums in satisfaction.

"I'll send them to you when we get back."

"Thank you," Isak says with a smile and Even shakes his head, chuckles, "No need. It was my pleasure."

Weirdly enough, they don't speak after that. It's as if Even's tolerance for Isak only lasts about 20 minutes a day. Then it's back to cold looks and distance. Avoiding his gaze and his being entirely. There's almost a negative energy radiating from him near Isak. Maybe 20 minutes is the longest time he can suppress his distaste and anger towards Isak. And Isak understands that. If he were Even, he probably wouldn't even look at himself. He knows how much he hurt Even. Knows how much he hurt them both. But he can't ignore that Even was the one who threw away the final pieces. The one who ended it for good. The thought sets up just a little bit of a barrier between them. Makes Isak more cautious, more careful. It seems in that moment that they're back to despising each other.

The next three days are weird. Isak and Even don't exchange as much as a look. As if something shifted that day at the ruins. Something they both ignored, didn't acknowledge, but somehow it pushed them further apart. Took the broken pieces of what they once were and started building a wall between them instead of around them. They walk different paths all three days, Isak grasping as much of the towns history and culture as he can. He never crosses ways with Even during the days, always seems to end up on different roads and interests. And perhaps that's how it's supposed to be. They're not together anymore. Not in love. Hell, they don't even like each other. But something presses on Isak's heart. Tells him it's wrong. It's all wrong. Screams at him to go and find Even. Talk it out. He throws that voice away and does the best he can to smile extra bright at every cashier and waiter, every person on the street. He thinks he can convince himself to be happy without Even. Hopes that if he can do it, by the time it's night again, he won't break once he enters the cramped hotel room again. Yet it's the last night and still no success. He walks back to the room with heavy feet and a throbbing head. Doesn't bother thinking about the thick air that almost suffocates him the moment the door closes and it's just the two of them again. No outsiders. Nothing is new or strange. Yet everything is scary and tense. Isak escapes to the bathroom as soon as he can, taking his time with the shower, not ready to go out yet. He lets his hands fall to his sides as he presses his forehead against the cold tiles and breathes. Just breathes. Lets the warm water swallow him whole as he cries. He cries silently, can't alert Even. Can't expose his weakness. The only one Even has yet to find. His weakness for Even himself. It should feel wrong, he knows. Yet it doesn't. His mind races with images of him and Even everywhere, scrolls through all three years of it. Tends to get suck at the bad parts. The yelling. The accusing. The crying. Almost flies by the images of them kissing, loving, being one. The last memory stands fresh and vivid in his mind so he turns the water to cold before doing something he'll regret. After nearly thirty minutes, he's got a towel around his waist and he steps out, a cloud of steam erupting from the bathroom door as he opens it. The lights are out and Even is asleep. Isak sighs and lingers before Even's bed for a moment too long before shaking it off and walking to his own. He doesn't bother with nothing other than boxers before sliding into the fresh sheets. Even's voice is so quiet Isak barely hears him.

"Good night," he nearly whispers.

"Good night."

When the first rays of sun hit Isak's eyes, he loses all sleep and opens his lids. He fumbles for his phone and the clock reads 10:13. He has 47 minutes until they leave this place. He takes his time getting dressed as Even has left the room, then packs the few things he took out during their stay and leaves his suitcase next to the door when he goes down for breakfast. With 10 minutes left, Isak strolls back to his room as quick as he can, ready to take off. Even is inside, following Isak with his eyes the moment he steps in. The air is tense once again and Isak just wants to get his suitcase and leave. Yet the moment his hand is back on the doorknob, a pair of strong hands is yanking him around and he doesn't have a second to register it before Even's lips are on his. He melts instantly and if it weren't for Even's hands holding him up, he'd be on the floor by now. Even's lips are soft and taste sweet, his hands warm and secure around Isak's waist. When Isak's suitcase falls to the ground with a thud, Even pulls back, biting his lip. His eyes are apologetic as he runs out, leaving Isak dumbfounded. Even left without anything in his hands yet his stuff is gone. Which means he was _waiting_? For Isak? Isak brings his fingers to his lips to make sure this is real. That he didn't imagine that. Sure enough, they taste like coffee and mint, feel hot to the touch. Isak grabs the handle of his suitcase with a shaky hand and leaves the room. That's it, he decides. When they get to Athens, he's speaking to Even. A week in the same hotel room after  _that._ A lot could happen if he does it right this time. Even's cheeks are tinted pink when Isak squeezes past him to his seat. Three and a half hours? He'll survive. At least he thinks so.  _Well, better buckle up!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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